Sweet
by ProphIt
Summary: Sweet's younger years as a Gang Banger.
1. Close Call

* * *

The night air was chilly; The sky a purple haze of light pollution and remaining naturality in it's appearance. Sometimes, you couldn't tell the difference. It was the streets of Los Santos, which were littered with Gang-Bangers, Drug dealers, hookers, corrupt cops, and everything inbeetween you could think of. Next to Liberty City, Los Santos, San Andreas, was one of the worst places in the world to live. Alleyways and gaps were scattered inbeetween run down buildings, that no one bothered to repair. If one were to look into one of these particular alleys today, they would see a young man, not even to twenty yet, clothed in a green hoodie and blue-jeans being chased by three older men wearing various assortments of clothing, all purple. Why were these men chasing the poor boy? Well, all four people were just more Gang-bangers in Los Santos. The green one, was a member of the Grove Street Families, or Orange Grove Street more accurately. The purple men -- purple was a sign of respect on the streets, of course -- were in a gang titled the Ballas. The Grove Street banger, was one of the biggest members in Orange Grove Families; Sean "Sweet" Johnson.

Sweet had been robbing a convenience store only minutes ago, when, as he was leaving the store, he realized three rival gang members were running up on him. He dropped the items he'd stolen, and began running across the street, to the point where you now meet him. He had a sleek black pistol in his right hand. So did two of the Ballas, who were firing at him. Luckily for Sweet, they were terrible at aiming, and missed him with every shot the fired. As he ran, Sweet saw a bullet embed itself in the ground next to him, narrowly missing his foot. Then another one wizzed pass his ear. _"Shit,"_ Thought Sweet,_"I gotta' get the fuck outta' here!"_ Just as he said that, he noticed a large tear in the chain-link fence just up ahead of him. He ran up to it, then jumped onto the small wall the fence was stuck in, and looked down past the fence. Below him now, was the highway that ran through most of Los Santos and eventually out to Las Venturas, and San Fierro. But that wasn't all he noticed; across the highway, was Grove Street. He just had to get there somehow ..

But Sweet turned his head around -- And another bullet narrowly missed his head. The Ballas were mad because he'd robbed a store on their turf, and they would kill him if he didn't hurry. But he was out of time. His last resort was now to jump forward. Which he did. He hit the hill with a dull thud, and began to roll down it, until he rolled onto the Highway, and was nearly run over by a Greenwood car. He stood, rubbing his head. He could feel blood trickling down his right temple, where he'd bashed his head into the ground as he rolled down into the highway. He saw gunfire beginning to pour around him, and quickly ran to the driver's side of the Greenwood, pulling out the man inside and diving into the seat. He held his head down as best he could, driving forward as bullets hit the passenger seat, and the windshield. He sat back up after the fire stopped, and realized he'd made it. Now, he only need drive back to Grove Street.

Ten minutes later, Sweet pulled up beside his large, two-story home on Grove Street. He opened the door to the Greenwood, with his hands shaking violently. As he stood out of the car, several people he barely knew, dressed in green, rushed towards him and supported him as he nearly fell. They began to speak, trying to make sure he was okay. He shook them off slightly, and walked around the car, walking up the steps to his home, opening the door, and entering. Sweet closed the door, and walked across the living-room, into the cold kitchen, slamming his gun down on the table and slumping into one of the chairs, then laying his head gently on the table.

Carl suddenly turned his head at the sound of someone entering the house. He was in the changing room of their home at the moment. He slipped his Tank-Top over his head quickly, and grabbed a black nine millimeter from the shelf, switching off the radio. He walked out of the room quietly, and then down the stairs. As he reached the last few steps, he whirled around the corner with his gun held forward in his hands. "What the f -- Sweet?" He dropped the gun and ran across the room, looking at Sweet's form in the chair. Sweet barely acknowledged Carl -- He was losing conciousness. Carl looked at his head, and noticed a deep gash where blood was slowly trickling out.

Sweet vaguely heard Carl approach him. After a moment, he heard Carl say _"Shit, Sw ... We ... Get ... .. Doctor .. "_ Sweet couldn't understand him. Carl's voice slowed down and got deeper, and slowly, Sweet closed his eyes, losing conciousness.

* * *


	2. Layed Out

* * *

The long, white halls were almost bare, save for a few nurses walking back and forth, and doctors entering, and exiting rooms, and of course the occasional patient getting up for one or another reason. Apparently, it was a slow day for a Hospital in Los Santos -- If there was such a thing. Barely any sound echoed throughout the building, except for the occasional _"Paging doctor .."_, and the sort of things you would hear in a Medical facility.

Dreams flooded through Sweet's mind, some good, but mostly bad; visions of his future, even. The life he lived would get him in danger one of these days, and he knew it. More danger than it'd already gotten him in, of course. He lay in the bed, a large bandage above his right eye, and a brace around his right arm; Apparently, he'd shattered one of the bones, though he could still move the arm. Just not do anything with excessive force (examples being punch, shoot, etc.)

Carl's eyes slowly opened, Sweet thrashing about in his bed rousing him. Carl quickly stood, and grabbed Sweet's wrists. "Sweet, chill! Chill! It's Carl, calm down, Sweet!" After a few moment, Sweet began to quit his thrashing. Carl released him, and sat back down, sighing. Just as he did, the door to the room opened, and Ryder walked in. "Hey, Ryder. Where's Smoke at?" Ryder shrugged slightly, and sat down next to Carl, putting his feet up on another chair and leaning back. He wasn't allowed to smoke in a Hospital. "'E said he was goin' t'do some shit, I don' know. Said he be here in a few minutes." Ryder sighed slightly. "So, how Sweet doin' in here?" Carl shrugged. "He been havin' nightmares, goin' crazy once in a while. But the doctor say he gonna' be okay, for now. Broke his leg, bashed his head.. He don' look okay t'me." Ryder waved his right hand. "I don' never trust no doctor, CJ. S'all 'bout the money, even for they ass." Carl shook his head. "Don't be no idiot, Ryder."

As they finished talking, the door opened once more, and Sweet's doctor entered. He was an old man, clearly, in his later sixty's, Carl could assume. "Well, Mr. Johnson, as soon as Sean wakes up, you're free to take him home. He should be well enough to be relatively active, though I would advise you keep a close eye on him, and make sure that he doesn't over-use his right arm." Carl nodded, and the man left. The door didn't close entirely, but instead, Big Smoke walked in, and closed it behind him. "Hey, Carl, Ryder. How he doin'?" Smoke sat down in the seat Ryder had placed his feet on, forcing him to move them.

"Fine, Smoke." Carl said. "Doctor said we can take him back to the Grove, soon as he wake up." Smoke nodded. "Good, good. So, where Kendl at, anyway? An' yo moms, an' Brian?" Carl shook his head and sighed. "Kendl's at home, makin' sure no one jack us while we all out here. Moms and pops still on vacation in Vice City, and Brian back at the house with Kendl. I figure there ain't no reason for all of us to stay down here with Sweet. He just be pissed when he woke up, if you ask me." Carl put his hand up to his chin, and then looked back at Smoke and Ryder. "Infact, you two go back home, or keep Kendl and Brian company. Somethin'. I'mma ask the Doctor if Sweet can stay here over night, you know, so he be ready to leave in the mornin' .. I don' even know if he'll wake up tonight."

* * *

Three men clad in purple shirts and black pants stood on a corner, at Glen Park, Rollin' Heights Ballas territory. They were discussing idiotic matters, for the time being. "'Ey man, pass that blunt! C'mon!" One of them said, as he reached over and grabbed a smoking stick of pot from the other one. "Shit man .. This shit whack! Where th'fuck all the good shit at, bitch?" "Hell, I do'know. 'Ey, you guys hear, about that O.G.F. fool that robbed the 27/11 a street over from Grove Street?" The former man inhaled on the weed, and nodded. Coughing, he responded. "Yeah, yeah .. Heard Tyrone and his friends tried to shoot the fucker off, but he jumped off the god damn fence into the highway! You believe 'dat shit, mayne?" The other Balla shook his head. "Naaah. Some crazy ass fuckers out there, you know. More d'an us, I bet." The other two men laughed, just as a Majestic slowly pulled around the corner off the small bridge that overlooked the pond in the center of Glen Park.

Tyrone Williams opened the door to his slightly battered up Majestic, looking around a bit, and then closing the door. Tyrone was a thin man, in a black tanktop with a white short-sleeve underneath, and loose purple long-shorts, with a Jheri Curl haircut. He stepped over to the hood of his car, then jumped onto it and slid across, jogging forward up the steps to the house that he'd parked infront of. As he reached the top, he balled up his hand into a fist, and banged on the door three times loudly. After a moment, a "Who the fuck is there?" sounded from behind the door. " 'S Tyrone, you dipshit!" "Oh, fuck, hold on." Tyrone heard the sound of a deadbolt and chain lock being undone, and then the door opened.

"So, the job done?"

"Yeah. He layin' in the Hospital. We 'bout to lay him out f'good."

* * *


	3. Kick 'Em While They're Down

* * *

Smoke and Ryder were in the two front seats of a Greenwood, driving slowly away from the Hospital where Sweet and Carl were going to stay the night. Ryder, the one driving seeing as Sweet couldn't fit his fat ass into the Driver's seat, inhaled the smoke of a cigarette, and then exhaled, misty grey floating into Smoke's vision. Smoke batted at the smoke, and shook his head. "If you gonna' smoke in here, Ryder, you could atleast open a window, man!" Ryder shook his head. "Naaaah, man. Is' rainin' outside, I ain't gettin' myself all wet an'shit 'cus you can't handle a little smoke." Big Smoke sighed. "Man, that second-hand smoke is gonna' gimme Cancer, or some other bullshit!" Ryder waved his hand. "Why'own'choo stop whinin', busta'? Look, fine!" Ryder rolled down the window, rain droplets landing on his arm, and tossed the cigarette out the window, rolling it back up. "There, busta'!"

A few minutes later, Ryder and Smoke pulled up to the Johnson family house, and got out of the car, closing their doors. Both put their hands over their heads, and rushed up to the shielded front deck, where they would be safe from the rain. Smoke got there first, and knocked on the door loudly. He heard the voice of Brian shout "Who is it?", and Smoke shouted back "Is' Smoke, baby, open up!" Quickly after, the door opened, and Smoke and Ryder ran into the house. As Brian closed the door, he deadbolted, and chained it, turning around to look at Smoke, Ryder, and Kendl. Brian was wearing a white tank (a hand-me-down from Carl), and a pair of black shorts with orange running shoes on. Kendl was wearing a yellow blouse with a black skirt, and no shoes on at the moment. Ryder had a green hoodie on, and a L.S. hat over his head, with damp blue-jeans covering his legs, and black sneakers on. Finally, Smoke had a green long-sleeved shirt on, with black pants and white shoes on, and his usual black bowler hat.

"What're you two doin' here? I thought you went to see Sweet and CJ." Brian asked, walking across the room and sitting down on the sofa, while Ryder was already on the opposite end, and Smoke was sitting in a wooden chair at the table. Ryder nodded, his right leg propped up on the couch. "Jeah, jeah, we went to see them, but CJ said we should go on home. He an'Sweet pro'lly gonna' stay the night, said for us to come keep you two company." Brian shoved Ryder's leg off the couch. "Get'cho wet-ass leg off the couch!" Smoke chuckled lightly, and Kendl sighed. "Well then, are you two gonna' stay the night? A big storm is comin', I don't know if you can make it back to your house, Smoke. "Yeah, I guess I stay here." Smoke said, and Ryder crossed his arms slightly. "Well, if he stayin', I am, too." Kendl nodded, and said "Ryder, you sleepin' on the couch, and Smoke, you get the floor." Ryder and Smoke looked as though they were going to disagree, and Kendl quickly said "Or you two can sleep together in Carl's bed." Ryder and Carl quickly nodded, agreeing they'd rather take the floor and couch.

As Kendl walked upstairs to get blankets and pillows for Ryder and Smoke, Brian turned his head to the two, and spoke quietly, so that Kendl wouldn't hear. "What if the Ballas try and attack Sweet, while he out cold? _The Hospital in town is right in Ballas territory."_

* * *

Carl stretched and yawned, tired due to the late hour. He'd just spoken with Sweet's Doctor, who had agreed that Sweet should stay over-night. Just as Carl was beginning to fall asleep, he heard four loud thuds in a row. This aroused a small amount of suspicion from him. Then, he heard four more thuds. He turned to the window behind him, which had the blinds closed. He parted two of the blinds with his fingers, and saw a Majestic and a Tahoma outside. As realisation suddenly hit him, he heard a sharp, high-pitched scream from a nurse. "Fuck!" He shouted, as he stood up and reached for the sleek, black nine millimeter tucked in the back of his pants. He cocked the gun, and held it aimed at the door just as it burst open, and a Balla stood on the end. Without thinking, Carl quickly fired two shots, one hitting the Balla in the head, and the other hitting the one behind him in the shoulder. The one Carl had hit in the shoulder quickly ducked behind the door, and almost six other Ballas began to hide in the lobby just outside Sweet's room, one or two firing their Mac-10's.

Carl dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a few gunshots. The Balla who had hidden quickly took this opportunity to jump inside the room, though he was quickly taken care of with a shot to the arm and then to the chest, falling over backward, his nine millimeter skidding across the floor just infront of Carl. Carl quickly grabbed it, and got onto his stomach, crawling to the edge of the bed (still on the floor), and peeking around it into the lobby. He drew his head back just as a bullet hit the wall behind him, directly in the course of where his head had been. He swore loudly under his breath, and then shoved the nine millimeter around the corner, firing off several rounds. He thought he had missed entirely, when he heard a loud, deep-throated shout, signalling he'd hit someone. With that, he stood, and jumped clear over Sweet's bed, moving to the wall and standing against it. He turned his head around the corner, and saw two Ballas rushing at him from across the room. He counted quickly, and realised he'd dispatched three of the eight Ballas there, leaving five. He whirled around the corner, both pistols infront of him, and loosed a fury of bullets onto them, taking them both out. Three left.

Suddenly, one Balla jumped around the corner, and Carl shot him at point-blank in the hand, forcing him to drop his gun, then once more with his original gun in the head. That left his first gun empty, so he promptly dropped it, and grabbed the nine millimeter from the dead Balla. "_Shit," _CJ thought,"_That means the other two have Mac-10's! This'll be hard as fuck ... "_ Up to this point, he'd taken out six of the eight Ballas with relative ease, despite the fact he was close to have a heart-attack from fear and adrenaline rush, but the two more heavily-armed Ballas would prove a better challenge to him than the others.

He forced his head around the corner to see if the Ballas were there, and couldn't see them. So, with his two pistols infront of him, he reluctantly left the room -- And was met with the barrel of a Mac-10 to his head. The Balla had been waiting around the corner the entire time. "Time to die, Grove bitch!" Just as Carl thought he was going to die, he heard someone shout "Motherfucker!", and the sound of a gun being fired. The Balla next to him dropped dead, and Carl looked to his right to see Barry Thorne, or more commonly known as Big Bear, standing in the middle of the hallway with a green-checkered coat and a white t-shirt underneath, and a pair of blue-jeans on, with a nine millimeter in his hand, which had smoke coming from the barrel. "You okay, CJ?" He said, as he ran up to Carl. Carl nodded in response. "Yeah, yeah .. But how you get here, Bear?" Bear gestured to the door with which he had entered the Hallway. "Moms is sick .. You?" Carl also gesture to the room he came out of. "Sweet... Hey! There goes that last Balla bitch!" Carl pointed one of his 9mm's at the door and fired one or two shots, just as a Balla rushed out the door, missing him.

"Fuck! Now he gonna' tell all his fuckin' Balla friends!" Just as Carl said that, Sweet walked out of the room in a hospital-gown and arm-brace. "What the _fuck_ happened?" He shouted, as Carl looked around at the many dead bodies lying about. "Someone tried to lay you out up in here, Sweet. We gotta' leave, now." Carl looked at Bear. "I think you should, too. More Ballas might be back soon, and if they find you, they'll probably hurt yo' moms and you." Bear nodded, and turned to walk back into the room where his mother's doctor was cowering in the corner. Carl shouted "Thanks, Bear!" at his retreating form, and turned to Sweet. "Yo' bag is in the corner, Sweet. Get dressed in the bathroom, I'll go get the car and bring it 'round the front." Sweet nodded, and kicked a Balla corpse into the corner to close the door of his room.

* * *


	4. Unfinished Work

* * *

Carl ran out into the parking lot of the Hospital, trying to hurry as best he could to find their car. Luckily, there were only two Greenwoods in the entire lot, and Carl knew which was Sweet's. He ran up to it and slid over the hood, opening the door and jumping in, shutting it, locking it, and then shoving the keys in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and Carl turned around to back out of the car's current parked position. He swerved, and drove around to the front doors of the Hospital where a small curved road was to pick up people from the Hospital (though it was meant for ambulances.) 

After only a minute, Sweet rushed out of the building with a bag of his things in hand, and a nine millimeter black pistol visibly tucked into his pants, which he'd most likely stolen off of one of the dead Ballas. He was wearing a green short-sleeve shirt with a white end, a green ball-cap, and black denim jeans: his favorite outfit. Sweet opened the back door and threw his suitcase/bag into the back, then closed it and jumped in the passenger seat. Carl then drove, as quickly as he could, out into the streets of Los Santos.

"Sweet, why you get that gun? Doctor said you can't do much with that arm of yours." Sweet shook his head. "I' hold it in my other hand, I could still shoot some Balla motherfucker." Carl sighed at his stubborn brother. Still, if he wasn't that way, he wouldn't be Sweet.

* * *

A man clad in purple -- Eddie Den (the Balla who escaped from the Hospital) -- ran up the stairs of a house in Glen Park, banging on the door. A man answered, looking disgruntled. "Who the fuck're you?" Eddie gasped for air slightly, and then said "I'm -- I'm part of the group that Tyrone sent to kill Sweet Johnson ..." The man looked displeased that one of them had come here. "And?" He replied. "His brother, CJ, killed all of them but me." Now the man was in a rage. He punched Eddie in the face, and Eddie fell on his back, onto the pavement.

"Fuckin' idiot!" He shouted. "You couldn't kill two Grove Street bitches? Motherfucker!" He kicked Eddie in the ribs now, causing Eddie to appear as though he was doubled-over on the pavement. The man pulled out a cellphone and punched in a seven digit number, staring down at Eddie furiously. "Tyrone? Is' me, Lloyd."

"Hey, Lloyd. Whas'up?"

"Sweet is still alive. But he killed all of your men."

At this, Eddie looked up at Lloyd with a confused expression on his face. Suddenly, Lloyd pulled out a nine millimeter, and aimed it at Eddie's head. Eddie shouted "No - no no no!", and that was the last thing he ever said, as Lloyd fired a bullet directly into his skull, splattering blood all over the pavement.

"You okay, Lloyd?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine .. But Sweet should be headed to the bridge just over Grove Street, if they left the hospital a few minutes ago. Meet him there and take him down."

"I will."

* * *

Carl drove at the fastest speed he could without getting a speeding ticket. "Here, we comin' up on the bridge Sweet, we be back at home soon." The rain poured heavily on their car, lightning crackling in the air overhead. But suddenly, they pulled up at the bridge, and both Johnson children had a horrified expression on their faces. Sweet said "What .. the .. fuck?" slowly and quietly.

Carl stared at the three-car-blockade of Tahomas, and the dozen Ballas around it. He suddenly heard the sound of a dozen guns cocking in slow unison, and he shouted "Get down!", both he and Sweet ducking near the floor, and driving forward into the blockade. Bullets shattered the glass of the windshield, and then as the hit one of the cars, knocking it sideways, both the windows next to them shattered, glass raining down upon Sweet and Carl. As they continued to drive, thinking they were home-free, one of the cars suddenly started driving after them, four Ballas in it, firing at their car.

The back window shattered, and Carl shouted "Try and shoot them, Sweet!" They were so close to Grove Street, but if they didn't stop the Ballas soon, they wouldn't make it. The car started to smoke light grey, just as Sweet pulled himself into a sitting position on the empty window. He fired at the Ballas, and managed to hit one in the head, who slumped over and fell out of the car. But the remaining Ballas weren't trying to take Sweet out.

Carl suddenly realised the Ballas were trying to destroy their car as opposed to just shooting Sweet. If the car started flaming and they had to bail, they would be sitting ducks. Just as Sweet took out another Balla, the car started to pour out dark-grey, near black smoke from the hood. They turned off the bridge with a handbrake turn, and drove forward, hand-braking once more into an alleyway that led into Grove Street. Due to the close turns, the Ballas couldn't fire at their car yet, and as the two cars pulled into Grove Street, the Ballas jumped out.

But they clearly hadn't been thinking right, as they were quickly met with the gunfire from over twenty Grove Street members who had been sitting around on their porches, or inside their homes. Carl and Sweet got out of their car, and Carl said "Sweet, get in the house." Carl raised his arms, signalling for the Grove Street members to stop firing. He walked over to one of the men slumped against the front tire, who coughed blood out onto the pavement.

"You .. bitches ... " He said, inbeetween coughs.

Carl recognised him. It was T-Dog, or Tyrone .. Something, From the Rollin' Heights Ballas set.

He pulled out his gun and crouched down, pushing it to Tyrone's head. "You fucked with the wrong brother, bitch." He stood, and fired off three rounds into Tyrone's head, blood splattering all over the car and pavement. Tyrone fell over, dead.

Carl put the pistol into the back of his jeans, and turned, looking at all the green-clad men standing about, staring at him. "You bitches wanna' help, get rid of all this evidence, b'fore the cops get here!" He shouted, waving his arms in anger. He jumped into Sweet's car, and drove it into the Garage, stepping out and walking up the steps to the Johnson house, and entering, deadbolting the door behind him. He'd had enough for one day ...

* * *


	5. Deals and Suspicion

* * *

Carl turned around, and sighed. He was exhausted, after killing nine men in one day. But who wouldn't be? He walked around the room, and sat down on the couch, bringing his legs up, and moving into a lying position. Though, just as he did this, Brian jogged down the stairs, walked up to the couch, and put both hands on the top of it. "Carl, you okay?" Carl grunted in response. 

"Sweet told us what happened, and we all saw the rest from my bedroom upstairs."

Carl sat up, and looked at Brian. "What were y'all doin' up there, anyhow?" Brian walked around the room, and sat at the table in the corner. But before he could reply, Sweet, Ryder, and Big Smoke all three came down the stairs. Sweet looked as well as ever, apart from the brace on his right arm.

Ryder nodded to Carl, and Smoke sat down next to him on the couch, clapping hands with him. "Hey, CJ, wha'sup?" Carl moved his legs, and shook his head. "Oh, I was just exhausted from killing nine people, then everyone decides to come down here, you know." Ryder laughed slightly, and took a seat at the table in the corner. "Then go upstairs and sleep, buster." Carl waved his hand at Ryder, and stood. "I think I'll do that ... " Then walked up the stairs, and into his bedroom.

Sweet laughed, and took Carl's place on the couch. "So, Ryder, 'Smoke, why y'all here?" Smoke turned his head to Sweet. "Carl told us to come her, and keep Brian an'Kendl company while you two was down at the Hospital. Figured you wouldn't stay there the entire night." Ryder nodded. "'Jeah, an'you two fools woke us up! I was havin' a nice dream, too ... " Sweet and Smoke laughed in unison. "Get on with that shit, Ryder .. " Said Big Smoke.

* * *

"What?" Shouted Lloyd into his phone. "Dead? How could that motherfucker be dead, it was fifteen to two! Fuckin' idiot!" He resisted the urge to sling the corded phone across his kitchen. He had to think of a new plan of action..

"Don't worry, Lloyd! We gonna' get him, some time. He slip up soon, you know he will."

Lloyd mentally nodded, but sighed. "Yeah, I guess ... Anyway, I'm gettin' together some business associates tonight over a game of Poker, you in?"

"Hell yeah, Lloyd. What time?"

"Two hours; Eight PM."

"Okay, I see you then."

Lloyd hung up the phone, and stood, walking into his living-room. Grove Street was becoming powerful -- Too powerful. He needed to form alliances for the Ballas if they were going to fight against those Grove Street fools.

Lloyd got out his cellphone, and punched in a few numbers. After two rings, someone picked up, and said " 'Ello, who is this?" In a thick, Hispanic accent. "This is someone representing the Ballas. I heard you're one of the top-dogs in the Vagos. Me, an assosciate of mine, and some other bussiness partners are meeting over a game of Poker tonight in two hours, and we want to make you a proposition."

There was silence for a moment over the line. "So why not offer now, then?" Lloyd quickly came up with a response. "Because it will be easier to work digits in person."

It took a bit, as though the man was hesitating, but he agreed. "Fine, ese'. But I'm bringing back-up, so you try any funny shit, and you die." "Why so hostile?" "Because we're enemies." "Not for long ... "

With that, Lloyd hung up the phone, and dialed another number. "Hallo?" Came the Russian-accented voice after two rings. Did people agree on some two-ring code around here, or something? "Yes, I've heard that you own a private company that gets ... Items of interest to me, from Russia to America."

"Yes. What is point?" Said the man. He needed some English lessons ... "I have an offer to make you tonight, at about Eight PM, over a friendly poker game, and I want your companies boss to be there."

"I don't know .. I will check with him, we have too many enemies in America to not be in danger."

Lloyd chuckled slightly. "Oh, don't worry. Bring as much protection as you wish. Hell, bring a whole van full of Ruskies armed to the teeth, so long as you don't try to off me. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

"We will do that. .. At eight?"

"Yes. Goodbye. I look foreward to seeing you ..."

The phone clicked dead, and Lloyd shoved it in his pocket, grinning. Soon, the Ballas would be on top ...

* * *

Tenpenny was sitting on the hood of his police cruiser as Eddie Pulaski walked out of the Doughnut Shop. Tenpenny had an umbrella over his head, due to the heavy rain coming in. Eddie looked at Tenpenny as he walked up to the car. "Rainin' hard, huh, Officer?" Tenpenny nodded, grabbing a cup of coffee from the tray in Pulaski's hand. "Sure is, Pulaski. Supposed to be a big storm comin' in today .. One of the biggest all year." As the two got into the Squad Car, the police radio built into the car began to request that Car 23 -- Their car -- respond.

Tenpenny set his coffee down in the cup holder, and picked up the Radio, speaking into the metal device attached to it. "This is Squd Car 23, what's the problem?" Quickly, a female voice answered. "Reported gun shots and strange activities in Ganton, on Grove Street." Tenpenny smirked. "Grove Street .. We'll be there in a second."

* * *

The clock above Sweet chimed eight times. "When did we get a clock?..." He said.

Carl, Ryder, and Smoke all laughed. Brian and Kendl were upstairs. "So man, you feelin' better?" Said Big Smoke. Sweet nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I think I can still fire fine with my left arm .. " Which meant Sweet would be getting his revenge soon, for the things that'd happened to him today.

"Man .. We need to get some food up in here ..."

"What you fools tryin't'eat?" Said Ryder.

"How'bout Tacos?" Sweet suggested.

Ryder chimed in "Tacos? Again? Hell nah'!"

Big Smoke leaned forward seriously. "Chicken man, no discussion!"

Ryder shook his head and waved his arms dramatically. "Man, I don' want no chicken .."

* * *

Lloyd leaned back, and sighed. "I'm out." He said, looking from the Mexican at the table, to the Russian, and then back to his Balla friend who had come to the meeting as requested. The Mexican was Juan Escaro, one of the 'O.G's of the Los Santos Vagos. He wore a white tank, and bluejeans with a yellow bandana over his forehead. "Then I win, haha!" He shouted, pulling a pile of money up to him. The Russian was Boris Schlashnik, the local weapons trader from Russia in Los Santos. And the only one, primarily. "Damn!" Boris shouted. "You take all my money ..." The Balla was Chris Akell, more Front Yard Royalty. Boris leaned back liked Lloyd, and then spoke up. "But eh, maybe now, we get down to business, as you say?"

Lloyd nodded. "Very right you are, my friend." The Russian and Mexican now leaned forward against the table, listening. "Well, as you would know, Juan, the Grove Street members have control over most of the streets of Los Santos. We know that you also fight against them, just like us, and as the old saying goes, the enemy of my enemy, is my friend." Juan nodded. "So, for you ese, I would like to offer a sum of money each month for select drugs to be sold in Ballas territory. And, of course, you will receive a cut of the profits if you were to sell our drugs, in your territory. So, we both win." Juan nodded.

Lloyd turned to Boris. "And now for you, Boris. We know you're dealing weapons to some smaller gangs within the area, and even a few within the area of San Fierro and Las Venturas. Now, we would like you to add up all your monthly profits that you acquire from all of your deals, and then, we would like to pay you triple that to stop manufacturing weapons for our rivals, and solely make them for the Ballas." Boris nodded.

"So, gentlemen. Do we have ourselves deals?" Juan and Boris both nodded and said "Yes." In unison. Lloyd smiled and leaned back in his chair. _"And now, it's all set .. "_ he thought to himself.

* * *

Tenpenny pulled the Squad Car up to the Johnson house on Grove Street. Out came Brian and Carl Johnson, both looking disgruntled. Carl was the first to speak. "What the hell you want, pig?" He shouted from the steps.

Tenpenny laughed slightly, and walked up to the pair. "Well, some locals of Ganton reported a lot of suspicious noise coming from the area, and we believe you might just be the suspects of said noise." Carl and Brian both crossed their arms, and Brian spoke. "Think what you want, but Carl and Sweet was just at the Hospital downtown. Go there and talk to the doctors, if you want."

Tenpenny nodded. "Oh, I will. Say Carl, what was 'Sweet''s doctor's name, then?" Carl stared at Tenpenny. "Ralph Fermon, or something like that. Now get the fuck out of her."

Tenpenny nodded, and walked back to the squad car. "I'll be back, Carl, Brian.." He nodded his head to each one as he spoke their name, then opened the door to the Squad Car, got in, closed the door, and drove down the street, and away.

Brian shook his head. "Asshole .. Let's get some sleep." Carl nodded in agreement, and the two walked into the house.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, guess what several lines were taken direct from a mission in _San Andreas_. First person to name the mission can tell me to put something (reasonable and serious) into the plot, and I'll try and do it in the next couple of chapters, if not the next one.  
**


	6. Twenty Five to Life

A Greenwood drove down several streets slowly, in the distance. It was midnight exactly, and little to no one was outside in the streets of Los Santos. The Greenwood pulled into an alleyway, and the owner of the car stepped out. It was Sean "Sweet" Johnson. Sweet closed the door, and chuckled silently to himself. He had parked outside of a Club, owned by the Ballas. It was actually one of the biggest clubs in Los Santos, and it was also one of the biggest Balla's property. Sweet was going to get his revenge.

Sweet walked up to the back-door of the Ballas club, and tried to open it. He then looked down and saw the small padlock attached to the door. Of course.. He took out his nine millimeter, which he had fitted with a silencer for the occasion. He'd actually gotten the Silencer from the same store he'd gotten his pants at .. He aimed it carefully at the lock, and fired, blowing it off the door. He caught it in his hand, and quickly put it down on the ground, due to it's extreme heat after having a round fired into it.

He gently turned the knob with his right hand, considering he had to use his left now to hold his gun, and looked around the room. No one was in there. Everyone had left by this time, and considering the Ballas were one of the biggest, toughest gangs in Los Santos, they clearly disregarded the thought of any idiot breaking into their club, having no security posted around the room. Of course, Sweet had snuck out of his house an hour ago, considering Carl and Brian would definately never let him do something this insane with his bad arm.

He walked inside, to make sure no one was there. And no one was. The building was actually an old warehouse, and had no second floor, though it was tall enough too. It was an amazing room, really. It had a pristine, oak-wood bar, and it seemed all the tables and other wooden surfaces were made of the same. A small section of the wall had been hollowed out, where a huge selection of wines and other alcoholic beverages were placed.

In the center of the room was a massive dance floor, with all different color tiles, and lights on the metal rafters above that would shine down onto the floor, when the whole place was lit up, with various colors. All in all, it was one of the best clubs Sweet had ever seen. Almost a shame to burn it down .. But he needed revenge, and this was the perfect way to do it. So, he turned around, and walked back to his car.

Sweet opened the trunk of the Greenwood, which was facing the club door, both for a quick getaway, and so that anyone walking by couldn't see what he was doing. He pulled out two canisters of gas, which were in knee-high red plastic casings, with large X's indented at the top, and a yellow hose sticking out of it. He grabbed them by their holds, and carried them into the club. Setting one down, he began to tip the casing over, pouring gas over all the wooden surfaces. Then, he took the other one and coated the floors in gas. He then walked to the club door.

Sweet smirked almost evilly, and reached into his pocket, retrieving a lighter, and a cigarette. What a classic way to burn down a building. He lit the cigarette, and placed it to his lips, inhaling deeply. When he pulled it away, he flicked it onto the club floor. It almost fell in slow-motion, as Sweet exhaled the smoke from his mouth, and the room began to catch fire. Sweet chuckled loudly, and walked back to his car, closing the trunk and getting in. He then drove down the street, smoke coming out of the open club windows.

---

Carl bounced the ball back and forth beetween his hands, and then turned and circled past his brother, leaping into the air, and dunking the basketball into the net. It fell to the ground with a light thud, and then a few more as it bounced up and down a few times, Carl raising his hands in the air and laughing. "I'm the real deal, son!" He shouted, laughing afterwards.

Sweet waved his hands. "Get on with that shit, lil' brother! You know you just lucky when it comes to this game. Ain't no skill involved when it comes to you." They both laughed, and Carl waved his hand dismissively. Carl frowned, and looked at the black and white police cruiser that was driving towards them slowly. He turned to Sweet, who was dunking the ball himself, and muttered "Five-O .. " Sweet turned, and held the ball to his side, looking at the cruiser. He walked over to Carl's side, and Carl put his hands on his hips, both of them just staring at it.

Tenpenny got out of the car, and stretched, closing the door and yawning. He walked up to the brothers, and nodded. "Good afternoon, gentlemen ... " Sweet shook his head. "What the hell you want, you dirty pig?" Tenpenny chuckled, and raised his hands defensively. "Oh my friend, no, I come in peace .. Mostly. Well, no, not at all. Apparently, a club was burned down last night near the beach, and a man wearing green was seen fleeing the crime scene in a Greenwood .. And then, your name came to mind.

Sweet shook his head once more. "We ain't done nothin'. Besides that, it's just car, and it's just a color. Ain't like you're grove street for wearin' green, or drivin' a Greenwood." Tenpenny nodded slowly. "I don't guess so .. But, since your brother here is wanted for the murder of eight people .. " Carl cut him off. "Man, I told you to check with the fuckin' doctor, that was self defense!" Tenpenny nodded. "Oh, I did Carl. He said he's never heard your name before .. So I'm going to have to ask you to come with us, if you don't mind." Carl shook his head. "No way, man! Look at Sweet's arm!" Sweet held up his partially broken arm.

"You ain't taken' my brother no where, Tenpenny!"

Tenpenny shook his head. "Oh, but I am, Sean. If you'd like me to not have to add resisting arrest to his long, long long long sentence, then you'll stand aside." Sweet began to say something, but Carl cut him off. "No, man. I'll go peacefully, an'shit .." Sweet sighed, and Tenpenny put a pair of cuffs on Carl, dragging him backwards to the car. "You get me out soon, Sweet! You prove I didn't do shit, man!" Carl shouted, and Sweet nodded. "Don't worry brah', I will! Don't worry, man!" Tenpenny shoved Carl into the cruiser, and then opened the door. "Try not to commit any more arsony cases, Sweet ... " He chuckled, and got in the car, driving away. Sweet held up his hand and gave Tenpenny a rude gesture as he drove away.


	7. The Plan

Sweet sighed, and leaned back on the couch of the Johnson house. Ryder sat next to him, Big Smoke sat in one of the chairs at the table in the corner of the room, and Brian was in the kitchen making some cerial. It _was_ seven in the morning. Ryder took a drag of his stick, and exhaled the sick-smelling smoke from his nose. "So, what we gonna' do 'bout CJ?" Sweet looked to him. "What the fuck you mean, Ryder?" Ryder raised his hands in a shrug. "What, man? You just gonna' leave 'im there?" Sweet shrugged back in response. "What else can we do? He got seven -- " "Eight." Smoke corrected him. "Eight," continued Sweet,"counts of murder. That's an automatic life sentence!"

Ryder nodded. "Exactly, mayne! We gotta' get 'im out!" Smoke inhaled on his Cigar, and nodded. "Yeah, man." Sweet shook his head. "I don'know man. He probably wouldn't wan' us to risk anything for his ass. You know him." Ryder shrugged. "So? Sometimes, shit happen, that you don't want to happen. C'mon, I got a plan." Smoke nodded once more. "Gonna' blow the prison?" Ryder froze for a second. "Man, shut up! I'm gonna' blow up the prison." Smoke rolled his eyes. "Okay, so, what we need, is a getaway car, a private house, some explosives, and the blueprints to the prison." Sweet agreed with the plan, despite how vague it was at the moment. "Okay, yeah." Ryder stood. "I'mma go get the blueprints." Sweet stood then, and pushed Ryder back down by his shoulders.

"Nah man, nah. Le'me do that. Y'ain' exactly a 'people person'." Sweet walked around the couch, and out the door, closing it behind him and hearing Ryder swearing, followed by Smoke laughing.

---

Carl lay on his bunk, with a few bruises. He'd beaten the fuck out of his inmate for the top bunk. Suddenly, he heard the guard shout out a few orders, and he rolled over and jumped off the bed. He landed on the floor, and turned, walking to the cell door with the beaten inmate behind him. The cell door opened slowly, and a series of prisoners all walked in single-file to the cafateria.

Carl shuffled across the cafateria with a tray and a bowl of steaming shit in his hands. He sighed, and sat down at a mostly empty table, and began eating. "_Damn Sweet .. You gotta' get me outta' here ... "_

---

Lloyd sat in his living-room, staring at the random images flickering across the telivision. He was expecting a call from the Russians or Mexicans on when to make their first monthly deal. Just as he turned this over in his mind, the phone began to ring, and he reached over, and picked it up.

"Hello?" Lloyd said.

"In prison? What for?" Lloyd laughed slightly. "You payed off the doctor? Nice, man, nice! You gonna' get a reward for that!"

"Gonna' break him out? When?" "You don't know? Fuck. Call me when you get more details bitch."

Lloyd put the phone down on the base, and smiled to himself.

---

Sweet opened the door to his Greenwood, and stepped out, closing it. He walked over to the doors of the planning building, and opened them, walking in. The air was cool, and there were security guards everywhere. And, of course, a few tourists. He walked up to the front desk.

"May I help you, sir?" Said the woman at the desk in a false tone of friendliness.

"Yeah, I'm lookin' for the blueprints of the jail downtown."

"I see ... And you know it's illegal to copy these, correct?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, I'm just makin' reference."

The woman told Sweet where the blueprints were, and he walked back across the room, then turned and walked up the flight of stairs. As he neared the level the blueprints he needed were on, he realised he needed a camera. Luckily, there was a tourist standing in the corner, and now guards or other civilians visible in the area.

Sweet walked up to the man, and spoke. "Sir, you think you could come with me?" The man fidgeted nervously. "Uhhh, w-why?.. " "It's a matter of security, sir." Sweet walked to the door just next to him, and walked inside the room. The man followed behind nervously, and walked in, Sweet closing the door behind him. He reached into the back of his pants and pulled out his silenced pistol. "Gullable motherf -- " The rest of his words were cut off by the silent hiss-like sound of the bullet leaving the chamber, and hitting the man, who fell backwards, already dead.

Sweet walked up to the body, and bent over, removing the camera from him. He put it around his neck, and grabbed the man by the shoulders, pulling him across the room, and stuffing him under a chair. Unless someone looked specifically there for him, it'd be hard to see him. This done, Sweet left the room, closing the door behind him, and continued up the stairs as he shoved the pistol back in his pants. Then, he saw the door into the blueprints room, and opened it. He closed it behind him. It was incredibly silent in this room, and there was only one security guard, who wasn't facing Sweet. This was too easy.

Sweet pulled out his silenced nine millimeter, and blew the guard away. He then looked about the room, and found the object he was looking for. A pair of blueprints attached to the wall by something behind them, of the prison downtown where Carl was being held. Sweet backed up a bit, and snapped a photo of the blueprints. They were too big to smuggle out, so a good photo would have to do. He then zoomed in on a few weaker areas of the prison, and the cell where he'd known Carl was in. This would be just too easy. Now, all they needed was a getaway car, and the explosives. Neither should be that hard to acquire in Los Santos, San Andreas.


	8. Delicate Touch

* * *

Sweet sat on the end of Carl's bed, thinking. How to get the explosives was his main concern. But he also had another idea, concerning the getaway car .. If they were to acquire a Tahoma, or Majestic, they could purposefully allow the police to take down the License Plate code, and then park the car in a Balla's drive-way. The next morning, he wakes up staring down the barrel of Five-O Handguns. But it would be slightly hard to acquire the car .. 

Suddenly, he heard three loud bangs on the front door. He sprung off the bed, and walked down stairs, then opened the door. He stared into the face of Ryder, who bopped his head lightly in acknowledgement. "S'up, Sweet." Sweet backed away from the door slightly, and Ryder entered, Sweet closing the door after him. " 'Ey, Ryder .. I was just thinkin' of callin' you." Ryder turned and nodded. "Oh 'jeah?" Sweet nodded in return. "Yeah. It's about getting a car, to get away from the prison when we bust CJ out." Ryder nodded. "Yeah, yeah, so what'choo thinkin'?"

Sweet walked to the couch, and sat down. "Well, I was thinkin', if we get a Tahoma or a Majestic, maybe we can frame Balla' Royalty for bustin' CJ out, right?" Ryder nodded. "Good thinkin', homie. So you want me to get some Balla wheels, right?" Sweet nodded. "Yeah. Take a few of the homies with you, and jack one in Balla's Territory, or somethin'." Ryder nodded. "Yeah, I'll go get on that, homie." He then stood, walked to the door, opened it and left. Sweet walked back up to the door and closed it. Now, he had to think of how to get the explosives to blow the Prison ...

* * *

Ryder jogged down the steps of the Johnson house, and looked around. He would need some back-up to pull this off without gettin' shot. And then, he saw the perfect back-up: Big Bear. He ran across the cul-de-sac, and greeted Bear. "Wha'sup, homie?" He shouted. Bear nodded. "Hey, Ryder. You need somethin'?" Ryder nodded. "Yeah, yeah. We plannin' a little somethin', you know, need a Balla's car. I need some back-up to help me get it, I thought you was the perfect back-up, homie."

Bear nodded. "Okay, okay. You wanna' do this shit now, or what?" Ryder nodded, and jogged across the street, motioning for Bear to follow. They both got in Ryder's car, and drove down the street, then turned left and crossed the bridge in the car. "This Balla territory here .. " "So how we goin' to do this, Ryder?" Said Bear. "Well, we park the car in a parkin' lot, and we wait for a car to come by. Then, we get out, and jack it. You packin' heat?" Bear nodded, and pulled out a nine millimeter. "Always, man." Ryder reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a .38 out of it, then closed it. "Someone gonna' die today." Ryder said.

Ryder parked the car in the parking lot right near the bridge, and leaned back, waiting for someone to come along. "Damn it's hot in here .. Need to get air conditioning, man." Bear nodded in agreement. Suddenly, a black and white Tahoma turned the corner, and Ryder grinned. "Here we go .. " He opened the door, and got out of the car. Just as the light it was at turned green, he got infront of the car. "Get the fuck out my way, Grove Street bi --" The man tried to shout, when Bear opened the door and shot him in the head. Ryder held up the gun, and shot the man in the passenger seat, then the other man in the back. Bear shot the last Balla in the back, and got in the car. Ryder ran to the window, and shouted "You take this shit back to Grove Street, park it in Sweet's garage, I'll follow you!"

* * *

Sweet slipped on his black leather jacket, and opened the door, exiting, and closing it behind him. He'd just thought of an easy way to acquire some explosives; custom-made. He intended to buy some gunpowder from the local Ammu-nation, and then take it to a friend of his who had a lot of experience with explosive materials ..

So, Sweet got in his car, and drove out of the small alleyway next to his and Ryder's house, then turned, and continued to drive to the Ammu-nation near Seville Boulevard family set. He switched on the radio, and the sound of Kool and the Gang started playing. But he tried not to get to distracted by it. As he pulled up next to the Ammu-Nation, he got out of his Greenwood, closed the door, and entered the shop.

"Hey, hey, partner, how can I help you?" Said the young black male behind the counter. "I need some gunpowder." The man stared at Sweet. "What, raw?" Sweet nodded. "Okay then .. It's fifty a pound." Sweet thought this over. "Then gimme five pounds." The man laughed. "Daaaamn, what're you doin' takin' down a skyscraper?" Sweet nodded. "Yeah .. Somethin' like that .."

"Well, here you go." The man said, handing a box to Sweet, which was filled with packets of Gunpowder. He toated the box out to his car, and placed it in the back seat, getting in, and driving down the street, to a garage just on the edge of Seville Boulevard set turf. He got out of the car, and grabbed the box, walking up to the steps of a blue house, and setting the box down. Sweet then proceeded to bang on the door. "Yo'! Hey, open up!"

A man opened the door. "Sweet. What you want?"

"I want you to make me a bomb, man."

* * *

Ryder tailed Bear in his red-brown car until they got to Grove Street. Ryder pulled into his own driveway, and then jumped out of the car, and bolted to the garage. He bashed the door, and it slowly opened, as Bear drove the Tahoma into it. Bear got out, and exited the garage as the door closed. "This shit's gonna' be hot, Ryder. You might wanna' lay low for a little while." Ryder nodded. "Yeah nigga', yeah. Thanks for the help, Bear. Grove for life, ya' heard?" Bear nodded,"For sure, Ryder." and walked away, to his own house. He opened the door, walked inside, closed the door, and then proceeded to the couch. But, just as he was about to sit down, the phone rang. "Ah, fuck .. " He said, and stood.

Ryder walked across the room, and picked up his phone. "Yeah?" He said. "Hello, Mr. Wilson." Ryder swore. It was Tenpenny. "Nigga', what the fuck you want?" Tenpenny laughed over the phone. "I want you to stop whatever it is you're planning. I've received an anonymous tip-off, that you're planning a little bust-out for your friend's brother. We won't be moving him from his cell, because I'm sure you'll be smart, and call this whole little plan of your off." Ryder didn't answer. "I'm looking forward to not seeing you, Lance." Ryder heard the phone click, and he turned it off, then slung it down. Now what? He had to tell Sweet ...

Wait ..

_"Shit! Sweet!"_

* * *

Sweet sat in the kitchen of Sean Evan's home, sipping on a glass of water while Sean was working in the garage. The explosives would be done soon, and they would be able to get Carl out of prison with a less than formal discharge. As he took a sip of his drink, he suddenly heard a gun shot -- It sounded like it .. Came from the garage! Sweet dropped his glass of water, which spilled all over the table, and he bolted to the garage without bothering to pull his nine millimeter. He burst through the door, and saw Sean lying on the ground, with a hole in his stomach, and blood leaking out of his wound slowly.

Sweet rushed over to Sean, and bent down. "Sean! Shit! Shit! Who did this?" He said. Sean tried to speak, but failed. Then, he tried once more. But his voice was weak, and raspy, and Sweet had to bend down to hear him. "B..Ba..Ballas .. Coming .. Through .. Fr-f-front door..." Sweet turned his head, and felt a wave of fear rush through his spine. But he remained calm. He grabbed Sean under the armpits, and dragged him across the room to where he couldn't be seen. He would have to take Sean to a doctor soon, or he'd die of blood loss.

Sweet then pulled the nine millimeter out of his pants (he needed a new gun), and proceeded with caution into the Living Room. As he peaked his head around the corner, he was suddenly met with a bullet, and pulled himself back as he heard the loud discharge of the bullet, narrowly avoiding death. He threw his left arm around the corner as best he could, and shot at where the bullet had come from. He was met with the pleasure of a fatal scream, and then more bullets, at which he jerked his arm back into the room. He was in deep shit now ..

Sweet suddenly dove across the doorway all Matrix-like, and fired off a few shots, hitting one guy in the forehead. He landed, and rolled, then looked down the hallway he was now in. He could get into the kitchen, where the Balla's were, from the Hallway door. He crouched, and creeped along the hallway, then turned left, and peeked into the kitchen. There were two Balla's, still aiming their guns at the doorway which Sweet had just bounded across. He moved across the doorway silently, so he could aim better, and fired off two shots at the two Balla's. One of them was hit in the arm, the other in the head, making a loud splattering noise as his blood smeared against the wall.

He walked into the kitchen, listening to the anguished screams of the gang banger who clutched his arm, and at the same time tried to drag himself away on his back from the approaching Sweet. But Sweet bent down, and grabbed the man by the collar. "Shut up!" He shouted, and smacked the man with his pistol. "NOW!" After the second blow Sweet delivired, the man silenced himself, apart from the involuntary whimper now and again from the horrible pain he was feeling.

"Tell me who the fuck sent you!" After a bit more beating, Sweet finally got an answer. "H-his name is L-Lloyd! He's Glen Park royalty, please, that's all I know! He just told us to stop you from gettin' yo' brother out!" Sweet frowned at the man angrily. "Then you get the same god damn treatment you were gonna' give to me!" Sweet dropped the man, and stood, aiming his gun at the man's head. "No, no no no no no!" The man shouted, in plead against the fate he was about to receive. But in the end, that didn't matter as Sweet pulled the trigger to his nine millimeter, silencing the man.

Sweet got in his car after placing the explosives in the back. Sean was dead, he had been for a few minutes, Sweet could tell. But he couldn't give the man a proper burial himself. It would have to be handled by the police. For now, he had other thoughts. First, he was going to get Carl out of Prison. Then, he was going to take out this 'Lloyd' fucker.

* * *


	9. A Loss

* * *

Brian, Big Smoke, Ryder, and Big Bear all sat in the Johnson family living-room, waiting for Sweet to get back. They needed to finish off the plan. As soon as they had the explosives, they had everything. Except, of course, the plan put together. "You think this even goin't work?" Said Brian. They all mumbled their own opinions, most of which were "No." And they were right. This was a huge plan, it was next to impossible, and if they were caught they'd all face life sentences. 

Just as they finished mumbling their responses, Sweet walked in the door, and closed it behind him. Brian turned his head around from the couch, and looked at Sweet. "I got the shit." He said, and nodded, as he grabbed a chair, and pulled it up to the general area of where all of them were at. Bear, who'd been at the table on the edge of the room, did the same as Sweet.

"Okay, let's plan this shit." Said Sweet, as they all began to discuss how and when this was going to go down.

* * *

It was finally the next day, and it was dawn. They were about to start the plan. Smoke and Ryder had driven the car to the discussed location near the Police Station hours ago, and would be waiting in there for Brian, Sweet, Carl, and Bear. Brian and Bear would take another car that would be set right next to the getaway car, and Carl and Sweet would get in the car with Ryder and Smoke. They would then all drive to a small, private house on the edge of town, and Carl would lay low their for a while. Brian and Bear would go back to the Johnson house while Sweet, Carl, Ryder, and Smoke all drove out to the house.

Sweet pulled a Greenwood up across the street from the Police-Station, with Brian and Bear in the back. They all three got out of the car, and Sweet walked around to the back, opened the trunk, and pulled out the box of explosives. They ran up to the side of the prison, where Carl's cell was, and all three stood there. Sweet crouched down, and put down the box. He opened it, then carefully placed the bomb next to the wall. The blast radius wouldn't be close enough to hurt Carl, though. The only possible way he could be injured would be if a brick were to hit him.

"You guys ready?" They both nodded. He pressed the small, cliche red button in the side, that lit a fuse within, and gave them around five seconds to run for their lives. And they did just that. They bolted as far away from it as they could, though the explosion still knocked them down. They got up, and saw Carl jump out of the hole in the wall. Wow. That was fast .. They beckoned to him, and he ran up in a orange prison suit. They didn't say anything, but turned and ran towards their car.

As they ran across the street, they were met with a hail of gunfire. Sweet pulled out a .38, and pointed to the car. "You guys run! I'll hold them off!" Brian and Carl tried to argue, but Sweet wouldn't allow it. He continued to fire at the policemen as they reluctantly got in the car. Brian began to drive off, as Bear got in the car with Ryder and Smoke. Both cars pulled out of the small parking lot, and turned in opposite directions.

* * *

Brian continued to drive down the street, and into the Country, following the map that was in the back seat. It wasn't exactly on the edge of town, as he had been told .. But it didn't matter. Now, they were on a mostly abandoned road, Carl and Brian, and nearing the small house. But, suddenly, Brian heard Carl say something. "Five-0!" He shouted, as a large S.W.A.T. Van suddenly smashed into them. The car hurtled off the road, and into a tree. Luckily, neither Brian nor Carl were badly injured. They both crawled out of the car, coughing slightly from the blow to their ribs.

But, a S.W.A.T. team did not meet them. No. Instead, one man did: Frank Tenpenny. He stood at the top of the ditch Carl and Brian were in, on the road, holding a nine millimeter nonchalantly in his right hand. "You little niggers thought you could get away from the law? No, kids. Maybe you'll learn that when you're dead." Carl suddenly realised he couldn't stand, and looked through the car-door at Brian. He could see Brian's legs only, as the car was blocking the rest of him. Brian was standing, and holding his side.

"Bye-Bye, little Johnson boy." Said Tenpenny, as he aimed the pistol at Brian. Carl shouted "No!", but heard the sound of a gun firing, and then Brian fell to the ground. Tenpenny laughed, and stared down at Carl. "See you around, Carl." He turned, and walked back to the S.W.A.T. Van, getting in. Carl heard the sound of the engine start, and then the car drive down the road. He dragged himself through the car, which was actually upside down, until he reached the other side and crawled out. He crawled over to Brian's body, which now had a pool of blood starting form around it.

"No .. Brian! No! Don't die, man, don't die!" Carl said, in a barely audible whisper. Brian coughed, splattering blood on Carl's face. "Man .. T-tell .. Tell Sweet ... I'm sorry I .. F-fucked up .. " Brian said, beetween coughs. Carl shook his head. "Nah, nah man! You did real good! Real good! It's that motherfucker Tenpenny, but don't worry, we gonna' kill that bitch!" Brian shook his head. "Don't .. N-no one .. Deserves this kind of pain .. But make s-sure he .. he's put behind bars, Carl ... " Said Brian. Carl nodded. "I will, I will man .. " Then, Brian's head jerked to the side lightly, and his eyes stared at the sky, with a glazed look on them.

Rain started to pour, mixing with the tears dripping off of Carl's chin. Carl began to shout out random obscenities into the air. But no one would hear him. He began to feel himself losing conciousness, and left reality, lying on Brian's corpse.

* * *


	10. The Beginning of The End

Carl awoke, in a Hospital bed. He opened his eyes wearily, and blinked a few times. He looked around the room, only to see Ryder, Smoke, and Bear sitting in three chairs at the corner of the wall. Suddenly, realization his Carl, and he jerked up. "Brian!" He shouted, waking up his three friends. After he began to look around hysterically, Bear (being the closest to him) got up and held Carl down. "Carl! Carl! Chill out, man, calm down!" He shouted.

"W-Where's Brian, man, where's Brian?" Carl said, stopping his fidgeting and jerking, but breathing heavily. No one answered him. "He's .. He's dead, CJ .. " Said Smoke. They all looked down solemnly. Ryder stood, and walked out of the room. A few moments of silence later, he came back in with a Cellphone to his ear. "Yeah, he's up .. Okay, hold on." He handed the phone to Carl, who was amazed Ryder had formed several sentences without swearing, or acting like an idiot. "Hello?" Said Carl. But he was interrupted by Sweet. "Shut up. Brian's funeral is tommorow, but you ain't comin'. While we all gone, you gonna' get your shit from the house, and you leavin' to Liberty City, at four PM. I don't wanna' see, or hear from you. You let Brian die, and I want you to know, I'll always blame you for that." Carl slung the phone across the room, and shouted "No!" Then curled into a ball and sobbed for hours.

---

The next day, Carl got his things from the Johnson house.

He walked to the door, wearing a blue hoodie and bluejeans, carrying a sports-equipment bag filled with clothing, some money, and a pistol, just incase. He turned, and looked at the house as he opened the door. A single tear rolled down his eye, as he exited, closed the door, and got in a cab.

---

Carl exited the plain, and listened to the cool voice of the announcer say "_Welcome to Liberty City."_

---

**Five Years Later**

---

"_Hello?"_

"Carl, it's Sweet."

"Sweet, what you want?"

"It's moms .. She's dead, bro'."

---

Carl, once more, exited a plain, this time hearing "_Welcome to San Andreas."_ He walked to baggage claim, and picked up his suitcase. "_After five years on the East Coast .. It was time to come home .. "_

This was the beginning of ..

**The End**


End file.
